“Because I saw. I saw a man lying on her deck as plainly as I see you and Mr Gibson now. Do turn back and see—quick—or you may never find her again in the dark. I saw him, mind you—I swear to God I saw him—by the deck lights as we crashed past. You can’t leave him alone to die. You can’t!”
“Saw him? Saw a mare’s nest,” grumbled the captain. “Let me tell you, young lady, it’s not my business to start overhauling derelict hulks at midnight—brutes that might have sent us to the bottom. Fortunately, we only scraped this one. Well, well,” he appended sourly, “we’re ahead of our time, so we might as well make sure of this. Put her round, Gibson.”
“Ah! I thought sailors were always ready to help each other,” said the girl triumphantly.
An order was given, and, in the result, the Runic changed her course, and was bearing round, going dead slow, so as to head for the late dangerous obstruction. The excitement was intense among the passengers, who thronged the bulwarks at every coign of vantage, eagerly scanning the dark, silent sea. Suddenly the engines stopped, and a boat was lowered.
“Where is she? Can you see her?” were among the buzzed, eager comments as the boat’s lantern receded into the gloom. Soon came a hail and the sound of gruff voices over the water. The light of the lantern grew larger and larger. The boat was returning.
Heavens! what was this? With the boat’s crew there stepped aboard a tall, bearded man burned almost to the copper hue of a savage and wearing what looked like the attire of one. Thus he appeared in the electric lights to the eyes of the excited throng.
“Who are you, my man, and what’s your ship?” began the captain brusquely.
“Thank God, I’m going home at last!” exclaimed the stranger, gazing around in a weary and dazed sort of way.
“Yes—yes; but—who are you?” repeated the captain more crisply.
“Why—it’s Mr Wagram!”